Free Blade Dance by Danica St. Como Page A

you little piss-ant .
    “Fuck me? You’re gonna fuck me? You little pervert, we both know that won’t happen. You can’t get it up. And you forgot your duct tape, dickhead, so my hands are free. I’m SWAT trained, buddy. You don’t want to know what I can do to you with my bare hands. I read about a woman who tore her attacker’s balls off with her fingernails when he tried to rape her. Don’t know if it’s possible, but I’m sure as shit willing to give it a try. Are you?”
    She didn’t know if pissing him off was very helpful, but it took her mind away from the pain in her shattered leg, the agony of which continued to wash over her in waves.
    Everything was quiet for a long moment; she hoped he’d decided to cut his losses and bail out.
    Then she heard heavy breathing against the door. He must have pressed his mouth right against the wood.
    “So, aren’t you the clever one, you little bitch. The duct tape. You did figure it out. I wondered. Maybe the last kill was one kill too many. The timing was off, but I needed to get rid of your bodyguards. Tell me. I’m curious. Is that what gave me away?”
    The pitch of his voice changed, became whiny, insistent, child-like. Wallis knew what the expression, “and her blood ran cold,” felt like. It was everything she could do to continue breathing. Without Glennon’s data, without all the evidence in, she hadn’t actually made a concrete connection, only had a theory—but Theo had just filled in the blanks for her. Christ on a cracker, I’m toast. I’m history .
    Wait. Glennon. Glennon ! He’d been on the web cam, with full audio, when Theo broke in and interrupted their conversation. Glennon heard everything. Please, please, please , pray he heard everything !
    She shouted toward the computer. “Glennon, omigod , Glennon, man, dial 9-1-1 if you’re still there, I’m in the office but I can’t lock the door and Theodore Carroll is the killer, he’s the Blade Man and he’s here in my house with a fucking cricket bat and a fucking knife and who knows what else—” She ran out of breath. I hope he heard enough .
    Theo hit the door, harder than before, shoved Wallis about a foot and a half. He reached in with the bat, aimed low, swung it blindly. The surprise attack not only jarred her ruined leg, but caught a hard shot to her right elbow.
    She screeched in pain as she threw herself backward against the door. He screamed and pulled his arm and the cricket bat back through the narrow opening. The door shut, and she braced her body against it. Rubbing the elbow joint until the hurt was reduced to a tingle, she found that her right hand wouldn’t work. Funny bone, my ass .
    He must have pressed his face against the door again. His breathing was labored, his voice cracked, unnatural sounding. “About the prom. You were right, y’know. I wrote her a note, and she said yes. The little bitch didn’t really want to go with me—she wanted to meet someone else, but it was couples only. Then she laughed at me on the dance floor. Laughed at me, right to my face in front of everyone, left me standing there.”
    He pushed the door again. Then his mouth was at the opening, between door and doorframe. “But I fixed her. Oh, yes, I fixed that lying bitch. Terrible accident at the country club’s boat house. Just awful. Too much spiked punch, then that wet, treacherous footing. Next morning, they found her floating between her father’s yacht and the dock. Drowned, her poor body crushed by the hull. Too bad, so sad. She was number two, after pretty Colleen.”
    No more talking. The next hit to the door was harder, more serious, probably with his shoulder. He snarled. Screamed obscenities. Pounded against the wooden panels, one hit after the other. Even though he wasn’t a big guy, the adrenaline made up for the lack of strength and body weight.
    Wallis was losing ground. Another couple of hard shoves like that, and he’d be in the room. Glennon, please, did you